The Broken Telephone Project: The Collection
October 2012 to March 2013
Conceived and curated by Dan Cormier, featuring original new work by eight artists (clockwise from top left): Dan Cormier, Cynthia Toops, Meredith Dittmar, Kathleen Dustin, Sarah Shriver, David Forlano, Celie Fago, and Maggie Maggio.
THE BROKEN TELEPHONE PROJECT: SEEKING HIGHER GROUND
The ‘Broken Telephone Project’ started as an idea more than a year ago. The first pin was made by me in Mexico several months later, and when it was finished, it travelled north, beginning a line of creative communication throughout North America that would last 127 days and collectively accumulate a whopping 46,330 ‘snail mail’ miles. That's almost five months, and almost twice around the earth’s equator! The project, the collection of pieces, and the identities of their makers has now been unveiled, first at the intended time and place of Synergy3, and now, on line, in virtual space. If you had asked me a year ago what the future would hold for BTP, I wouldn’t have known, and even now, specifically, I’m not sure. The goals of the original proposal have been achieved, but I hope this will be the beginning of a bigger broader conversation, lasting at least as long as the game, and reaching at least as far around the world, to further explore and evolve some deeper themes and issues...
As a community of artists (connected through the medium of polymer clay, but not limited to it), most of us hold certain concepts and values in high esteem: originality, influence, interpretation, collaboration, attribution, citation, and permission. I like to think of these as ‘The Force’ that holds our community together, and most of the time, we not only benefit from that, we celebrate it. Most of us. Most of the time. But we also have ‘The Dark Side’: mediocrity, derivative work, misrepresentation, copying, stealing. These are things we don't like to talk about, or maybe don’t know how to talk about, but they linger and have for a very long time, like a cane-slice-covered elephant in the room.
This ‘Dark Side’ is something I’ve seen through the experiences of others, but even more first-hand, I have experienced it repeatedly in my own career, as an artist, teacher, inventor, and author. Truth be told, there has not been a single time in my almost twenty-year career in polymer clay when I've introduced a new technique or tool, in a workshop, at a major conference, or on line, without someone in attendance turning around to claim my innovation as their own, or ‘share’ my ideas without my knowledge or permission, through their own blog, tutorial, book, demo, or workshop tour. True enough, I must be clear here and say that the overwhelmingly vast majority of my experiences in this community, beginning with the first Clay Camp I attended with my partner Tracy in 1995, have been positive, amazing, rewarding. But that doesn't change the fact that there hasn't been crappy stuff too, some of it really crappy. Unfortunately, even when the Force is strong, the Dark Side has an uncanny ability to disproportionately drain us, tap our time, rob our energy, and derail us from our creative pursuits, individually and collectively. This is a sad truth.
At the end of teaching my very first workshop at Ravensdale in 1996, a vessel I had made for the class was stolen. Also, same workshop, within weeks of the conference, my class handouts were very thoroughly précised and published on line, without my knowledge or consent. This was 1996! Example numbers one and two, both of these incidents were addressed and eventually resolved. But it didn’t end there. Similar instances of unauthorized taking, using, and distributing of my original creative content have continued, including yes, theft of actual property, for those of you that might need something more tangible to relate to. Many of these situations remain unresolved to this day, quietly (or not so quietly) continuing to compromise the integrity and ethical measure of our ‘sharing’ community.
At the Synergy3 conference, subtitled 'Seeking Higher Ground,' mixed media artist Harriete Estel Berman gave a keynote presentation called 'The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly in the Age of the Internet.' Boldly acknowledging that all was not Good, but also suggesting there were ways to reduce the Bad, and eliminate the Ugly, it was her intention to initiate a dialogue and set some ground rules to help artists more clearly and ethically define their own voice in their own work for their own good, and for the good of the community. If you missed her presentation at Synergy3, you can still have a listen to the online version she posted the following week. And even if you don’t agree with everything she has to say, Harriet's initiative should be seen as a great place for us to start the discussion, with openness, transparency, and courage. Listen to Harriete here.
As artists, we can choose to face these issues and address them in many different ways. Ultimately, that’s what I wanted to do with my Broken Telephone Project. In Seeking Higher Ground, I chose to take the high road and found a way to face some of the dark from a brighter vantage: actually making art. In an environment of trust and respect, I challenged seven artists to allow themselves to be influenced by the work of someone else. My hypothesis was that it's possible to open ourselves up to influence and inspiration, without losing our own identities in the process. I have always been a question-asker, an explorer, and an artist with great faith, but with this particular experiment, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I sent off my own pin as the BTP genesis, and from the moment I saw the first iteration, I was and remained constantly surprised and amused along the way. In the end, the project produced not a single piece of derivative work. Each artist was able to glean elements and motifs from the pin before theirs, providing the throughline that I had hoped would be evident in the game. Several serendipitous connections occurred along the way as well, perhaps the result of an even stronger collective creative energy that couldn’t be silenced. In the end, what I observed to be the greatest influence on each of these artists’ pins was not the work of someone else, but their own work, their own creative voices coming through loud and clear. I think this speaks to what I believe are the real sources of originality: a drive to be unique, and a willingness to manifest that through courage, commitment, and time in the studio. As a community, we can hold ourselves to a higher standard, and that begins with each of us individually raising the bar in our own work.
There is so much more to talk about with The Broken Telephone Project that goes beyond these ethical issues, and I plan to explore other ways to continue the discussion. I’m grateful and honoured that the game was so well-played, and I have my artist players to thank: Cynthia, Meredith, Kathleen, Sarah, David, Celie, and Maggie. I chose well. I could not have asked for a more grounded, humble, easy-going, flexible, generous, good-humoured, and talented group. For someone whose natural skill set does not include organization and time-sensitive logistics (thank God for Tracy!), they made overseeing this project so easy for me. Thank you to them, and to everyone who's enjoyed this project as much as I have.
May the Force be with you...
-Dan
I invite you to take a closer look at each one of the eight BTP pins, starting at the beginning and following along the line. For an Intro to The Broken Telephone Project, go here.
The Broken Telephone Project: The Collection
October 2012 to March 2013
Conceived and curated by Dan Cormier, featuring original new work by eight artists (clockwise from top left): Dan Cormier, Cynthia Toops, Meredith Dittmar, Kathleen Dustin, Sarah Shriver, David Forlano, Celie Fago, and Maggie Maggio.
THE BROKEN TELEPHONE PROJECT: SEEKING HIGHER GROUND
The ‘Broken Telephone Project’ started as an idea more than a year ago. The first pin was made by me in Mexico several months later, and when it was finished, it travelled north, beginning a line of creative communication throughout North America that would last 127 days and collectively accumulate a whopping 46,330 ‘snail mail’ miles. That's almost five months, and almost twice around the earth’s equator! The project, the collection of pieces, and the identities of their makers has now been unveiled, first at the intended time and place of Synergy3, and now, on line, in virtual space. If you had asked me a year ago what the future would hold for BTP, I wouldn’t have known, and even now, specifically, I’m not sure. The goals of the original proposal have been achieved, but I hope this will be the beginning of a bigger broader conversation, lasting at least as long as the game, and reaching at least as far around the world, to further explore and evolve some deeper themes and issues...
As a community of artists (connected through the medium of polymer clay, but not limited to it), most of us hold certain concepts and values in high esteem: originality, influence, interpretation, collaboration, attribution, citation, and permission. I like to think of these as ‘The Force’ that holds our community together, and most of the time, we not only benefit from that, we celebrate it. Most of us. Most of the time. But we also have ‘The Dark Side’: mediocrity, derivative work, misrepresentation, copying, stealing. These are things we don't like to talk about, or maybe don’t know how to talk about, but they linger and have for a very long time, like a cane-slice-covered elephant in the room.
This ‘Dark Side’ is something I’ve seen through the experiences of others, but even more first-hand, I have experienced it repeatedly in my own career, as an artist, teacher, inventor, and author. Truth be told, there has not been a single time in my almost twenty-year career in polymer clay when I've introduced a new technique or tool, in a workshop, at a major conference, or on line, without someone in attendance turning around to claim my innovation as their own, or ‘share’ my ideas without my knowledge or permission, through their own blog, tutorial, book, demo, or workshop tour. True enough, I must be clear here and say that the overwhelmingly vast majority of my experiences in this community, beginning with the first Clay Camp I attended with my partner Tracy in 1995, have been positive, amazing, rewarding. But that doesn't change the fact that there hasn't been crappy stuff too, some of it really crappy. Unfortunately, even when the Force is strong, the Dark Side has an uncanny ability to disproportionately drain us, tap our time, rob our energy, and derail us from our creative pursuits, individually and collectively. This is a sad truth.
At the end of teaching my very first workshop at Ravensdale in 1996, a vessel I had made for the class was stolen. Also, same workshop, within weeks of the conference, my class handouts were very thoroughly précised and published on line, without my knowledge or consent. This was 1996! Example numbers one and two, both of these incidents were addressed and eventually resolved. But it didn’t end there. Similar instances of unauthorized taking, using, and distributing of my original creative content have continued, including yes, theft of actual property, for those of you that might need something more tangible to relate to. Many of these situations remain unresolved to this day, quietly (or not so quietly) continuing to compromise the integrity and ethical measure of our ‘sharing’ community.
At the Synergy3 conference, subtitled 'Seeking Higher Ground,' mixed media artist Harriete Estel Berman gave a keynote presentation called 'The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly in the Age of the Internet.' Boldly acknowledging that all was not Good, but also suggesting there were ways to reduce the Bad, and eliminate the Ugly, it was her intention to initiate a dialogue and set some ground rules to help artists more clearly and ethically define their own voice in their own work for their own good, and for the good of the community. If you missed her presentation at Synergy3, you can still have a listen to the online version she posted the following week. And even if you don’t agree with everything she has to say, Harriet's initiative should be seen as a great place for us to start the discussion, with openness, transparency, and courage. Listen to Harriete here.
As artists, we can choose to face these issues and address them in many different ways. Ultimately, that’s what I wanted to do with my Broken Telephone Project. In Seeking Higher Ground, I chose to take the high road and found a way to face some of the dark from a brighter vantage: actually making art. In an environment of trust and respect, I challenged seven artists to allow themselves to be influenced by the work of someone else. My hypothesis was that it's possible to open ourselves up to influence and inspiration, without losing our own identities in the process. I have always been a question-asker, an explorer, and an artist with great faith, but with this particular experiment, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I sent off my own pin as the BTP genesis, and from the moment I saw the first iteration, I was and remained constantly surprised and amused along the way. In the end, the project produced not a single piece of derivative work. Each artist was able to glean elements and motifs from the pin before theirs, providing the throughline that I had hoped would be evident in the game. Several serendipitous connections occurred along the way as well, perhaps the result of an even stronger collective creative energy that couldn’t be silenced. In the end, what I observed to be the greatest influence on each of these artists’ pins was not the work of someone else, but their own work, their own creative voices coming through loud and clear. I think this speaks to what I believe are the real sources of originality: a drive to be unique, and a willingness to manifest that through courage, commitment, and time in the studio. As a community, we can hold ourselves to a higher standard, and that begins with each of us individually raising the bar in our own work.
There is so much more to talk about with The Broken Telephone Project that goes beyond these ethical issues, and I plan to explore other ways to continue the discussion. I’m grateful and honoured that the game was so well-played, and I have my artist players to thank: Cynthia, Meredith, Kathleen, Sarah, David, Celie, and Maggie. I chose well. I could not have asked for a more grounded, humble, easy-going, flexible, generous, good-humoured, and talented group. For someone whose natural skill set does not include organization and time-sensitive logistics (thank God for Tracy!), they made overseeing this project so easy for me. Thank you to them, and to everyone who's enjoyed this project as much as I have.
May the Force be with you...
-Dan
I invite you to take a closer look at each one of the eight BTP pins, starting at the beginning and following along the line. For an Intro to The Broken Telephone Project, go here.